Standing under the moon
last night,
listening to the soulful slow
blowing of the horns on the boats
welcoming in a new year.
Melancholy tuned into my
heart like lost chords.
Memories of old, crumpled train tickets,
journals filled to the brim with my words
that hold the keys to my heart.
Notes of someone near
playing the cello
the notes, taking me far far away on the night wind.
Longing for the candour and the shape
of your face
close to mine
my trembling heart,
in your open palm.
Wishes
wishes
wishes.
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Pretty misty stars